Guilty Till Proven Innocent
by snowywolf7
Summary: A regular trip into the countryside turns disastrous when Legolas is arrested for theft. Aragorn must ride out to save his friend from age old prejudice and a sentence to prison, and just perhaps, turn the fiasco into an opportunity to begin healing the rift between races.
1. Chapter 1

**Wow! It's been forever since I've written and posted something. School just really takes a toll on free time, but I'm going a little writing stir-crazy and just had to post this story even though it's in progress. Fear not, as always, I make the promise that I will never abandon a story and will see it to the finish line.**

 **This piece was inspired by the story "Guilty" where a line mentions Legolas being arrested for pig theft by StarLight9, a lovely fanfic writer I definitely recommend checking out. Hope everyone enjoys, as always let me know what you liked and what I should improve on :)**

 **Disclaimer: Yep, 2016 and I still don't own Lord of the Rings, surprise!**

"No."

"Aragorn..."

"No."

"Estel."

"Calling me Estel isn't going to get you anywhere mellon-nin. The answer is still _no._ "

"But what could possibly go wrong?" King Elessar's head snapped up to gaze at his best friend as if he had just sprouted an orc head. The elf standing by the window overlooking Minas Tirith's garden just stared back with wide, innocent blue eyes. Aragorn mentally cursed. He had seen that dazzling sweet look before and it never boded well.

"What could possibly go wrong?" He echoed with incredulity. "You could be waylaid by orcs."

"Orc packs are few and far between after Sauron's fall, especially on Gondor's roads, and you know I can handle myself even if I do somehow meet the foul creatures." Aragorn waved away the response. He had watched the famed warrior prince of Mirkwood fight dark creatures since he was a child. Aragorn knew better than anyone how capable Legolas was but that was hardly his point.

"You could be attacked by wargs." He continued.

"Arod would outrun them, or the beasts would find an arrow between their eyes before they got within a league."

"You could be caught in an avalanche." There was a slightly desperate quality edging into the king's voice. Legolas raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the human crouched on his bed. His friend was really grasping at straws now.

"Aragorn. It's _summer._ " The king muttered something suspiciously like 'never stopped you before' but Legolas let it pass.

"You could fall off a cliff." Legolas's eyes widened indignantly.

"When did I ever…"

"Eight years ago, hunting trip with Elladan and Elrohir, right around the midsummer festival in Imlandris."

"That is true." The archer conceded, "But that was under extenuating circumst…"

"The point is." Aragorn cut in firmly. " _Everything_ could go wrong." The prince just sighed shaking his golden head. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the window frame, head cocked slightly to the side. His bearing was casual but adamant and he met his friend's gaze steadily. Aragorn groaned covering his eyes with the back of his hand and falling flat onto the bed with a muffled thud. He recognized that stance of calm defiance. He had seen it often enough, usually when Legolas had made his mind up about something and was trying to convince his father who could be equally, if not more, stubborn than his son.

"You're not going to give up are you?" Aragorn asked peeking at the amused elf now leaning over slightly to smile down at his companion. "And nothing I say is really making a difference is it?" A gentle shake of the head. "Why must you be so _stubborn_ mellon-nin!" The king cried exasperatedly.

"Runs in the family." Was the cheeky reply. A smile spread across Aragorn's face as a new thought occurred to him.

"I could order you as your king. Lord of Ithilien." Legolas grinned merrily, happy to entertain the moot debate.

"Then I go not as Lord of Ithilien, but as Prince of Eryn Lasgalen." Aragorn gave a frustrated growl lowering his hand back over his eyes. The smile on the fair elf's face turned into a small frown.

"Estel why are you so against this? I just want to go visit some of the outlying villages in Gondor. I'll be back well within a week. Tis not as if I'm declaring that I wish to march upon Mordor. What is troubling you?" Hearing genuine concern in Legolas's voice Aragorn sat up looking to the elf's crystal blue eyes.

"Legolas not all of the smaller villages are as…accepting as the people in Minas Tirith." The prince's eyes lit up in realization but did not utter a word as Aragorn chewed his bottom lip nervously.

Aragorn knew that Legolas wasn't oblivious, he had walked Middle-Earth for millennia. The prince was well acquainted with how misguided notions about his race could lead to hostility and violence.

Aragorn recalled with mixed anger and nostalgia the memories of Legolas and him being chased or beaten out of villages in his days as a ranger because the company he kept was of elven race. Yet somehow the idea of people in Gondor, _his_ people, possibly acting violently against his brother in all but blood because of blind prejudice made him feel sick.

Legolas must have guessed at some of Aragorn's thoughts. Slender fingers guided the king's chin so silvery-gray eyes were locked with brilliant blue. This time the ageless eyes were filled with understanding.

"Estel listen to me. You cannot control the actions of your subjects. They're will is their own and only time will bring understanding and peace between our races. Let me go and maybe I can begin changing their minds." Aragorn relaxed slightly but Legolas could tell his friend wasn't entirely convinced. "I'm only scouting out some small towns, I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone. I wouldn't dare stay away longer, who knows what state of ruin I will find Gondor in if I leave you to your own devices for too long." Aragorn swatted at the insolent elf who dodged the blow easily but was grateful all the same for Legolas's attempt to lighten the mood.

"I have Arwen with me now arrogant Eldar!"

"So you admit you cannot rule without dear Arwen's or my help."

"I never… oh never mind it's pointless to argue with elves." He muttered sourly but his grey eyes were dancing. Legolas collapsed onto the bed next to Aragorn both staring into nothingness. The pair settled into a comfortable silence. For long minutes all that could be heard was the soft rustle of leaves.

"Promise me you'll come back safe." Aragorn whispered. Legolas smiled broadly at the ceiling. It was a promise the human had always managed to extract from the prince even when he was only a babe. Though the elf could not always honor that particular promise it was a reassuring ritual none the less.

"I can promise that I will try." Aragorn nodded. As he had matured into an adult and learned the horrors of battle himself he knew to guarantee a safe return was folly. A hand found its way onto the king's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Aragorn gripped the hand back in gratitude. The archer sprang quickly to his feet and swung his bow, quiver, and twin knives onto his back.

"The sooner I depart the sooner I may return." The elf said convivially, breaking the pensive serenity of the room. Aragorn smiled halfheartedly, waving farewell as the lithe figure slid through the doorway and vanished into the long stone hallways of the palace. As soon as the green and brown form vanished Aragorn dropped back onto the plush bed trying to find comfort in the soothing rays of sun filling the room with warmth. The king couldn't shake the feeling that something was definitely going to go very wrong.

Legolas cantered merrily through the grassy plains of Gondor's countryside, his platinum tresses thrown to the wind. It had been three days hence the morning Legolas had set out from the gates of Minas Tirith to traverse the free roads of Gondor. The trip had so far been successful despite Aragorn's dire predictions.

All the outskirt villages the prince had visited had been hesitant at first but then mostly curious to have an elf carrying news from their capitol in their midst. Save one rather unfortunate incident at a tavern, which Legolas had absolutely no intention of informing his friend about, nothing tragic had occurred on his expedition. No Orcs, no Wargs, and best of all, no avalanches.

Now he was meandering slowly back in the direction of the White City. Legolas called Arod to a halt on the top of a large hill to survey the beautiful expanse of rolling green hills. Far beyond the range of sight for a Man he spotted a copse of trees with a single great oak that dwarfed its companions.

"What say you to one last stop among friends before we must return to Estel's stuffy stone city." He called playfully down to Arod. The great Rohirrim horse tossed his snowy head launching into a gallop towards the distance trees. Legolas let out a whoop of joy lowering himself onto his steeds back to let him run faster. The wind whistled loudly in his ear, the ground turning into an emerald blur. What could be the harm of one extra visit.

As Legolas drew closer he noticed the oak was indeed a mighty specimen of its kind. Great trunks branched in every direction basking in the powerful summer rays. The other beech and ash trees, though normal in size, seemed miniscule next to their grand kin. The wood-elf jumped lightly off his horse giving him a gentle pat and allowing him to roam wherever he will.

He approached the tree as Arod trotted away admiring the strength and grace of the ancient being. Placing a hand on the knotted trunk the elf called out a deferential greeting. The oak did not respond immediately for it had been long since a creature who could understand its song called to it but Legolas could still feel the ancient and vibrant melody flowing through the earth joining the symphony of Arda. Finally the oak returned the greeting with great cheer, welcoming the Firstborn beneath its bows. Legolas smiled at the tree settling himself between the raised roots and reclining his head comfortably against the trunk resting his weapons against a nearby branch.

Birdsong filled the air. The musicians of nature's choir appeared only as small brown specs flittering between the vast branches of the oak gathering food and building nests. Dappled sunlight shimmered periodically through the thick canopy above creating shifting mirages on the grassy floor. The blue sky stretched across the sky broken only by the occasional fluffy white cloud. In the distance Legolas noticed a humble farm, and some distance further, a small human town. A soft breeze brushed across the trees bringing with it the pleasant fresh scent of wild flowers.

In the protected sanctuary of the oak a brown squirrel even dared scuttle down to sniff curiously at the prince's hand. Deciding Legolas was not a threat the woodland creature curled contentedly next to the prince falling into a light slumber. Smiling at the slightly comical scene the elf closed his owns eyes. Legolas let out a deep breath entranced in the steady song of the oak. The tree reminded the young elf in some ways of his own father, ancient, noble and proud. Between the aria of the oak and soft orchestra of life Legolas slipped from the waking world in to the realm of Elven dreams.

When Legolas shifted from dreams back to awareness the first thing he noticed was that his present reality was not nearly as pleasant as the peaceful recollections he was experiencing. There were loud grating voices and bright irritating lights flashing in his vision. Blinking his eyes back into focus Legolas realized he was surrounded by throng of men dressed in raggedy clothes all holding pitchforks, shovels, and other threatening farming utensils.

Night had long fallen. The only illumination came from the numerous torches the men held. The sight was nothing like the idyllic scene present when he had fallen asleep. He swept his gaze across the crowd assessing them in silence while pressing a reassuring hand against the oak feeling the tree's concern.

The prince's first thought would have been bandits but these men did not look like scarred and hardened criminals but rather regular townsfolk. The prince rose to give a greeting hoping for the best but he never even got to open his mouth. Before he had the chance to so much as rise to his full height a brutal fist collided squarely with the elf's jaw.

"You thieving scum!" A buff middle aged man with an unkempt beard yelled raising another furious fist. Dazed and blinking black spots of his eyes Legolas held up a placating hand.

"Sir I'm sure there has been a misunderstanding. I" But Legolas was quickly forced to duck and spin out of the man's way as he launched another powerful punch.

"Think ya can lie yer way outta this with em pretty words and vile trickery." He cried. Legolas shot a look at his knives laying only a few feet away but unfortunately his maneuver to avoid the irate man's fist had put a mob of at least a dozen people between himself and his precious weapons.

"Lastor this the one?" A man called out amidst the throng of people.

"Ya bet it is. I'd recognize em cowardly sorcerers anywhere. He's the one who stole my pigs. Get im!"

"Please this is a misunder," He implored but spun sideways as a man dashed forward with a coil of rope trying to secure the blond elf. Legolas weaved gracefully through the mob trying to reach his weapons or the tree line where he could escape on Arod. However no matter his skill Legolas was quickly being overwhelmed by numbers alone. It seemed as if half the town had joined the hunt to apprehend him.

Feinting to the left to avoid the sharp point of a pickax he was too late to dodge a thick wooden poll which was driven into the elf's stomach. Pain ripped through his abdomen dropping the prince to his knees as he struggled to regain lost air. Another foot slammed into his shoulder smashing his head into the cold ground. Legolas swept his leg out blindly hearing the gasp of two people who had just been swept off their feet.

He leapt up with elven agility smashing a fist into a man's temple dropping him to the ground and cleaving upwards with an elbow effectively breaking another brute's nose. He could see his ivory knives now, a mere three feet away. Just as he crouched to roll between the two men blocking his path a pair of hands grabbed his left wrist wrenching it hard. Thrown off balance the elf landed hard on his back.

The man who had grabbed his arm motioned to Lastor who pounded a shovel cruelly down upon the archer's arm. A nauseating crack signaled the breaking of bone. A pained scream echoed into the black night. Legolas attempted to rise but a thousand fists and boots seem to be raining down upon every exposed part of his body. The piercing pain engulfing his left arm was spreading to the rest of his body.

Giving up, Legolas curled into a tight ball cradling his broken arm close to his chest and shielding his head with his remaining right arm. The beating stopped abruptly. Legolas could barely make out Lastor's muscled form through a haze of pain. The last thing the elf remembered was the broad blade of a shovel descending upon his head then all turned to darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

The only thing that pierced through the smothering blanket on unconsciousness was an uncomfortable dull throb. Legolas did not wish to open his eyes. He was all too familiar with the throbbing that he knew would turn into a wash of pain were he to wake. Yet he had no choice. Warriors did not flee before a foe nor from pain. Forcing himself to focus on his surrounding the protective blackness faded away and the throb grew, concentrating into a white hot pain in his left arm and a furiously pounding headache. The prince groaned as his entire body screamed in protest. It felt as if he had been wrestling an oliphant.

He blinked open bleary eyes taking in his predicament. Vague grey blobs solidified into dirty stone tiles. A heavy steel door that opened from the outside was the sole entrance or exit. The only source of light was from the barred windows set high above the cell casting a bright square patch of sunlight a few paces in front of the imprisoned elf.

Legolas looked down at his own battered body. The once pristine tunic was now dirtied and torn. In places where the fabric had yielded to the harsh blows he could see dark bruises already beginning to form. Heavy iron shackles secured both of his feet the chains leading to a bolt in the stone floor. His arms were likewise bound in chains above his head mercilessly straining his injured arm. A couple chains were crisscrossed across the elf's chest and secured into the wall behind his back for good measure. The chill of the cell contrasted with the fiery pain burning up and down Legolas's broken arm. The fact that his resistant elven body could feel the cold alerted Legolas to just how harsh the beating was.

The elf took in a deep breath, the air tasted dusty and stale, he leaned his head against the frozen walls hoping to deaden the pounding in his skull. Judging by the position of the patch of light just out of reach the sun had long passed her zenith. Legolas closed his eyes, concentrating on taking slow breaths and stilling his body to reduce the pain in his arm.

Long hours passed with only the shifting shadows and the sounds of his own hitched breaths to keep Legolas company. No one came to visit. None came to offer food, water, or explanation. He vaguely remembered a man by the name of Lastor making allegations of pig theft. _Pig theft?_ Legolas thought disbelievingly. _Of all things to be accused and beaten for._

Over the millennia he had walked Middle-Earth the elf prince had managed to get involved with all sorts of trouble, especially when he was with Elrond's spawn, but never in his life had he ever been arrested of something as seemingly inane as swine theft. Yet examining his situation now it didn't seem nearly as comical as it should have been to the elf.

 _Aragorn his going to laugh himself silly then murder me if he finds out about this._ Legolas thought glumly.

* * *

"This is ridiculous Runen." Lastor cried as he kept pace with the sheriff of the town as they marched in tandem towards the jails. "You can't possibly be thinking about giving that…that thing a proper trial. He's not even human." Runen tilted his head back slightly to glare lightly at his companion. The torchlight illuminated only half his face casting the other into dark shadows making the man look more intimidating than normal.

"It doesn't matter if he's not human Lastor. The new decrees from the king are absolute. Any creature, except for those filthy goblins and orcs, charged with a criminal offence must face trial according to town laws overseen by an appointed official from the capital. It is my duty as the sheriff of this town to uphold the word of the law even when I don't agree with it. I've already sent off young Melbryn as our messenger."

"So you do think its guilty." Lastor prodded.

"Of course I do. There ain't nothing trustworthy about them elven folk. I don't care what people say in the main city about elves helping fight in the Great War. They weren't here to help for the decades we've had to fight off them filthy creatures coming down from the mountain to killed our men, women, and children." Runen said as he slid a silver key into the jail doors entering the small underground facility where they kept their criminals.

Most of the cells lining either side of the hallway were empty with a couple housing frequent drunken visitors that regularly stayed the night at the jails for starting bar fights. Two men playing cards stood at attention as Runen passed them.

"At ease." He said instinctively passing the guards without a second thought Lastor still muttering complaints behind him.

"In em goo'ol days we woulda just beat im senseless and locked him down e're forever. Everyone agrees he's scum."

"Well we don't live in the dark days anymore. Things have changed since King Elessar retook the throne of Gondor. He's been good and just and restored peace. We should be grateful and uphold what he's asked of us." He returned exasperatedly. Lastor shook his burly head.

"I ain't sa'in I'm not grateful, but what if he enchants em law men and wiggles out of stealing me pigs?" He continued to argue angrily as they pair drew closer to the heavy metal doors at the end of the corridor. It was heavily fortified cell designed only for the most dangerous criminals accused of the most heinous crimes.

"Look Lastor." Runen said trying to the conversation to a halt. "Don't worry about the trial." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "All the townsfolk know he's guilty and he won't get away with it. I'll make sure of it. No matter what happens this elf will be found guilty and sentenced to imprisonment. The world is better off with less of his kind." The two men locked eyes reaching a silent agreement.

Lastor nodded in acceptance. Runen smiled inserting a rusty key into the heavy door turning until a satisfying click broke the silent jail. He raised his torch high, fingering the piece of parchment beneath his fingers. Dangerous chips of ice shined unnaturally bright from the darkness of the cell. The creature raised its head meeting the sheriff's gaze unflinchingly. This retch did not scare him. His fate would be sealed by his hands soon.

* * *

Time slowly trickled away like water droplets falling of leaves. The square patch of sunlight drifted further and further away from the elf's feet, bending and stretching as the sun made her final decent for the day. Soon the wavering orange light faded completely to be replaced by the silver flickering illumination of the stars and moon.

Legolas had almost allowed himself to drift off in a restless sleep when faint sounds could be detected from behind the heavy jail door. It sounded like footsteps and muffled voices. Two people if his ears did not deceive him. They seemed to be in the middle of a hushed but heated argument but the sounds of protest ceased abruptly as the steps came to a stop directly outside the door.

Legolas straightened, sitting ramrod straight. He composed his features letting the fatigue, pain, and uncertainly slide off leaving only a cool steely mask. The elf was forced to squint as bright torchlight filled the dim cell. When his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness Legolas recognized the silhouette of two humans, one with an unpleasantly familiar face. He leveled his icy blue eyes at them assessing the two townsfolk with a mask of disinterest.

"Wipe at' smug look off yar arrogant face before I wipe it off for yer." The man Legolas identified as Lastor snarled even as he stood slightly behind the other unknown man. The archer had to hold back a small smile of self-satisfaction as he realized the man was afraid. Despite his broken arm and the numerous chains inhibiting almost all of his mobility the coward was still afraid of the lone elf.

"Not so brave without half the town screaming for innocent blood behind you are you." He said evenly. Perhaps not the most tactful thing to say but Estel always did complain that Legolas had a streak of pride that manifested itself at the most inconvenient times.

"Why ya little…" Lastor growled taking a threatening step forward.

"Enough Lastor. Don't waste your efforts on this nefarious creature. He'll just take the chance to put you under one of them elvish spells or turn you into something unnatural." The man who spoke was more well-kept than Lastor. He wore a smart grey undershirt and a formal black jacket, other than his dress the new man was also more well-spoken than his rough counterpart. His short black hair was neatly brushed and his brown eyes, while also alight with mistrust and anger, also held calculating intelligence. Legolas mentally laughed at their ridiculous superstitions.

If he had such powers did the two humans think him likely to be sitting in their cell entertaining their misplaced animosity.

"Elf." He began formally, holding a piece of parchment before him as if he were a high lord announcing a new decree. "You have been imprisoned on suspicion of theft and for resisting arrest." Legolas raised an elegant eyebrow. No civilized nation would ever label the confrontation in the glade an 'arrest'. "Per decree of the new High King of Gondor, Lord Elessar, a court appointed official will be provided from the capitol city of Minas Tirith in light of a town or city not having a judge themselves for serious criminal proceedings. Once this judge has arrived a trial shall be held in open court where your fate shall be decided by a jury of your peers."

The law man glanced up from his document to meet unwavering blue orbs. The man's gaze faltered.

"These are just formalities creature, do not expect allowances to be made for your treacherous acts." He barked, quickly rolling up his parchment and backing out of the cell carrying the torch with him. Lastor lingered for a split second, just long enough to shoot Legolas a look that made the elf not entirely comfortable before scurrying behind his companion closing the cell door with a resounding clang.

Legolas let his mask drop as a frown pulled at his normally smooth features. Guaranteeing a trial overseen by a judge form Minas Tirith certainly was comforting but the jury that would decide his fate would most definitely consist of men from the town. If the loathing and distrust for elves ran as deep in this town as it ran in the law man Legolas just encountered and Lastor the trial would be a nothing more than a farce. He had already been sentenced guilty.

While the prince had no idea what the penalty was for pig theft it was not something he was eager to find out nor a penalty he was willing to carry out when he was guilty of nothing more than falling asleep in a grove of trees.

As the moon reached his peak, casting a comforting steady glow, Legolas's sharp ears picked up a sound that made his heart flutter with joy. The steady clop clop clop of hooves on cobblestone. These rhythmic beats were familiar to him for they belong to his own steed. A snort followed by a huff of air signaled the horse's arrival by the cell window. Legolas craned his neck to look up ignoring the spike of pain that action caused to shoot down his spine.

"Arod." He whispered ecstatically. "I do believe I have never been so glad to see you my friend." The horse snorted once more lowering his intelligent dark eyes to the bars. Legolas could have sworn the horse looked like he was admonishing his masters for landing himself in trouble once more.

"I promise it wasn't my fault this time." The elf pleaded his case. Arod ruffled his silvery mane. "Never mind how we got into this mess. I need your help mellon." Arod stilled tilting his great white head. "Run home. Go to Minas Tirith and find Estel. Aragorn." He emphasized. Arod blinked at his rider. Legolas knew is faithful steed would be reluctant to leave him in the human settlement, especially when his horse could tell the elf was in trouble.

"You must go. Noro lim Arod. Run for Minas Tirith!" Sensing the urgency in his master's voice the white war horse reared his head letting out a whinny that shattered the still night before the sound of pounding hooves signaled his gallop away from the cell.

Legolas leaned against the cold stone once more letting out a sigh of relief. He opened his eyes looking at the shaft of milky light, swirling calmingly with particles of dust. Help was on the way.

 **Love it? Hate it? Let me know, reviews always brighten my day ^_^**


	3. Chapter 3

Aragorn sighed, shuffling his papers absentmindedly around his polished desk. The king raised his head to look out at the serene azure sky stretching to the horizon without a single streak of white to interrupt the tranquil sea. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the air. A finch even landed on the king's open window sill silting its head questioningly at the man.

"Enjoying the weather my friend?" He asked with a smile distracting himself from his previously gloomy thoughts. The finch jumped lightly on its twig like legs before taking off into the air once more to join its fellow friends. Aragorn sighed once more lowering his grey eyes back to the piles of treaties, trade agreements, and petitions awaiting his review.

"What troubles you so meleth-nin. The sun shines brightly and surprisingly no grave disasters have rained down upon your beloved realm." A voice smooth and sweet as honey drifted into the solar. The newcomer wiped the worry from Aragorn's face as quickly as the spring sun drove away the remnants of winter snow.

"Arwen my love." He stood to kiss his bride lightly.

"If you truly find the paperwork to be so tedious why not take a stroll through the gardens? They are especially lovely right now thanks to Anor and of course Legolas. His ability to bring such lush life to all manners of growing things still amazes me." At the mention of the Prince of Greenwood Aragorn's face fell again.

"I'm afraid it for that tree loving fool I feel uneasy for." Arwen raised her eyebrows at this.

"I can't imagine why. He's only been gone five days. It's not as if he's marched off to Mordor." She sounded surprised.

"I know, I know. Logically there is absolutely no reason to worry but yet I feel uneasy." Her lips curved into a small smile, her grey eyes understanding.

"You two have been on far too many misadventures together for you not to worry about him. Tis only natural. I'm sure he worries for you too when you're gone, Valar knows he panicked just as much as my brothers and father when you vanished from father's house." Aragorn flushed bright red.

"How do you know! You weren't even there." He cried. The queen laughed.

"I have been regaled with so many enchanting tales it is as if I were there in person."

"When Legolas comes back and those two hellions visit all three of them are dead." He muttered darkly. Arwen rested a slender hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Take a walk in the sun my love. Enjoy the fresh air and be with your people. Your troubles shall melt away and you shall feel much better for it." She promised gliding out of the room. Aragorn watched the hem of her blue dress swish out of the doorway. His wife was most likely right, irritatingly she almost always was. A walk would do him good. Aragorn left his quill on the wooden desk and gathered the papers into a neat pile to be perused later. Waving off the guards insistently King Elessar descended the white city of Men.

The sun shone brilliantly down upon the people milling through the street. Merchants selling their goods and families browsing various wares. The man turned his face up to soak up the warm rays of light gracing his city. The steady buzz of the crowd and perfect weather calmed his restlessness. As Aragorn passed the lower justice hall he caught the tail end of a conversation between a young dark haired individual and one of his court officials.

"No problem Master Melbryn. Master Tybolt here can accompany you back and get this trial overseen and done in no time. Good luck with getting this thieving lowlife." The young man named Melbryn nodded his thanks as an older man, whom Aragorn recognized by his garb as one of Minas Tirith's judges, joined the youth and mounted a dun colored horse. Melbryn mounted his own steed and they rode off at a slow trot through the crowd.

Aragorn was just about to turn back towards the upper levels a small commotion caught the king's attention. He could see the outline of a horse whinnying in irritation. The wild animal turned just as the two men Aragorn had just seen leave the justice building rode past nipping angrily at the two men's horses. The two steeds reared unhappily but their riders maneuvered out of the crazed horse's way with many curses leaving their mouths. After a moment of hesitation the dark outline began violently pushing its way up the city streets.

A beautiful riderless white horse charged impatiently through the startled crowd. The horse was clearly irritated tossing its head and whinnying loudly in protest as a few brave souls tried to grapple the beast into submission. Aragorn's eyes widened in recognition. That wasn't just any wild horse charging up his streets, it was Arod, with no Legolas.

"Stop. Stop!" he shouted at the crowd which was beginning to panic as the horse continued to bodily nudge people of the way. Both men and horse stilled at Aragorn's commanding call.

"Your majesty!" One man cried in surprise dropping quickly to his knees and offering a reverent bow. Many followed suite realizing whose presence they were in.

"Please rise." He said giving the crowd a reassuring smile. He made his way to Arod who was no longer whinnying threateningly but was still tossing his head in distress. "What is wrong my friend. What has my reckless brother gotten into this time?" He asked patting the animal's head calming his movements.

A cursory glance told the king that Arod was not wounded and the lack of blood on his white pelt suggested that his rider had not been wounded when he was separated from his steed. Arod nudged the king with his nose prancing nervously turning back to face the lower level gates. The horse wanted to take Aragorn somewhere, most likely wherever that stubborn elf had managed to find trouble again.

Arod turned his head to face Aragorn, then at the justice building. A tingle traveled down the man's spine. Recalling the uncharacteristic aggression Arod had shown the judge who had just rode out of his city the king turned to face the towering stone structure. Without clear rhyme or reason the king allowed his legs to lead him towards the clerk who had been talking to the young man named Melbryn just a few moments before. The clerk looked up startled when a shadow was cast over his counter.

"Your majesty." He cried beginning to bow.

"At ease. I just a few questions for you."

"Of course. Anything I can help with would be an honor my king." The clerk said nervously.

"The man who was just here, Melbryn, who asked for an overseer for a trial in his town did he speak to the nature of the trial?" He asked.

"He did not give many details my lord. He only said that an elf had been arrested for theft and they were holding a trial. Most unusual but I suppose the fair folk are like us. Most are good and kind but there are bad apples in every bunch I suppose." The clerk did not noticed how Aragorn's skin had paled as he heard the man's explanation.

"That idiot." He mumbled under his breath. "Thank you, you've been most helpful." Aragorn thanked quickly before turning back to Arod. The great horse's pink nostrils flared gently waiting for a move from his master's friend.

"Arrested. Again! Really now, you'd think he's trying to set some kind of record." He complained to the horse. Aragorn sobered slightly as he looked out towards the vast expenses beyond the city gates. "Let's go get your master back Arod." He whispered. "Uh…right after I change." He added looking down at his shirt of fine silk with the tree of Gondor and formal pants completely impractical for an expedition. If he was to ride headlong into one of the lovely messes he and Legolas always managed to get themselves into it would be in the garb of his youth. In his Ranger's garb.

As the rolling hills of emerald green receded into a town nestled in the protective dip of two grassy knolls Aragorn pulled Roheryn to a halt. He had left soon after the messenger from this town, stopping to do little else but change and give Arwen a brief description of the situation. His queen had promised to look after Minas Tirith but Aragorn had refused the guards' offer to accompany him saying he would ride faster alone. With Arod as his guide the man had made good time and was sure he was right behind Melbryn. He needed to reach Legolas before the trial started and get the mess sorted out before true pandemonium could erupt.

He swung off Roheryn, telling both horses to graze but stay close before flipping up his hood and making his way down to the town. He drew little attention to himself as he wandered the streets of the small settlement. To the people there he appeared as nothing more than a passing traveler. After about fifteen minutes he located what appeared to be the jail house. He entered the front door without hindrance, no one expecting trouble in broad daylight. There was only one young guard whom Aragorn recognized as Melbryn, the youth sent to retrieve a judge from Minas Tirith. He stood swiftly seeing the intruder.

"Who goes there? What business have you in this jailhouse?" He questioned hand reaching for his sword. Aragorn flung his hood back with a flourish revealing his ebony curls framing a proud, handsome face and noble grey eyes. The guard paled immediately fumbling his sword.

"My sincere apologies. I did not realize, I did not"

"Peace. I am here to see a prisoner for I heard you recently arrested an elf." Aragorn explained quickly. The guard, still rather pale, shook his head vigorously.

"Aye my lord. But he's dangerous I wouldn't go near him sir, I've heard all about how elves can curse you just by looking at you." Aragorn mentally snorted at the absurdity of the man's statement but kept his face firm.

"Do you forget that I have chosen to take one of Fair Folk as my bride and as your queen?" He questioned, tone betraying nothing. If the guard was anxious before it nothing compared to how he trembled now.

"I did not mean…but I've heard stories about Elf spells and curses." The boy stuttered. Aragorn had to suppress an irritated scowl, he didn't have time for this. He was anxious to see his friend now. The ride here had allowed time for his brain to conjure up all sorts of terrible circumstances surrounding his friend's arrest and he would not rest till Aragorn saw Legolas with own eyes.

"That is utter nonsense and nothing more than superstition. Let me see this elf." He insisted. Melbryn jumped forward the keys jingling in his shaking hands.

"Right this way my king." He said leading Aragorn down the dim hallway to stand before heavy steel doors. The guard inserted the key and turned the lock still shaking slightly. The sight the open door revealed did nothing to ease Aragorn's fears. If anything his fear was quickly replaced by cold fury.

Chained to the opposite wall lay his best friend. Dried blood caked his torso and head. Numerous ugly bruises were already blossoming purple and green all over the elf's slender body. Worse perhaps was the obviously broken left arm pulled ruthlessly over his head secured by heavy iron chains. The elf's pallor was pale and sweat beaded his brow making his vibrant blond locks damp with perspiration. Blue eyes opened slowly registering the change in his surroundings. Aragorn hated the grogginess that clouded those normally crystal eyes. Legolas looked up eyes widening in shock as they locked onto familiar grey.

"Release him." Aragorn's tone yielded no room for argument, his anger thinly veiled behind a stoic mask. The poor guard cowered in the doorway, trapped between fear of disobeying his king and terror of being cursed by evil elven magic. The lad was shaking worse than a leaf caught in a storm. Feeling sympathy for the poor boy Legolas's eyes softened and he called out gently.

"I will not harm you. You have my word." The prince's whisper was gentle and warm as if speaking to a young foal. "Obey your king." The guard swallowed nervously before shifting yet another set of keys on his belt and shuffling forward. He methodically released each cuff binding the elf never once meeting the prince's eyes. When the restraints on Legolas's left arm were released he couldn't help wince when the broken appendage position was shifted. Aragorn noticed this and his frown deepened.

"Leave us." He commanded as soon as all the locks were undone. Melbryn scurried to obey fleeing the cell as if a pack of wargs were hot on his heel. As soon as the steel door closed silence reigned supreme in the stone prison.

"Really Legolas! What have you gotten yourself into this time!?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Really Legolas! What have you gotten yourself into this time!?"

Legolas winced lightly at Aragorn's loud voice.

"I told you didn't I? I told you to take a guard with you. I knew it would end in trouble." The king ranted making short back and forth paces around the cell. Aragorn wasn't sure why he was admonishing his friend. He wasn't frustrated or angry with Legolas. The elf has set out with the purist and noblest of intentions and, had it not been for his concern, Aragorn would have encouraged his friends ambassadorship.

But he had known hadn't he? Known that his race had not shaken the age old prejudices that they clung to like cloaks in a blizzard. Sauron might have been vanquished from the lands but the evil that lay in the hearts of Men could not be eradicated by throwing a ring into fire. In truth Aragorn was frustrated with himself. Why hadn't he insisted Legolas go with someone. Why hadn't he protected his friend. A familiar voice cut through his nonsensical rant and brooding thoughts.

"I'm sorry Estel. I really am, but please calm down. You're pacing is giving me a headache." Legolas asked holding his golden head with his good hand. Aragorn immediately froze and dropped onto his knees leveling his face with Legolas's.

"No, I'm sorry mellon-nin. You have nothing to apologize for. I was just so worried." He cupped the elf's cheeks between his palms leaning forward to let his forehead rest against Legolas's. Even in the dusty stone cell the elf still smelled like the great pines of the north. The man let the familiar scent and presence melt away his anxiety. There would be time for him to contemplate his own raging feelings later. Legolas did not move or speak simply allowing them both to soak and relax in each other's company.

"I am sorry though." Legolas began. Aragorn was about to object but the elf silenced him. "Not for being arrested or creating this mess, I'm afraid neither of us can claim credit for that. But I am sorry I didn't heed your warnings and made you worry."

"I will always gladly worry for you Legolas. As I know you do for me." The elf smiled at that, knowing it to be true. Aragorn leaned back assessing his friend with a healer's eye. He did not like what he saw one bit. The broken arm needed to be reset immediately to prevent the bones from knitting together the wrong way and the elf's various cutes needed to be treated and bandaged less they risk dangerous infections to otherwise superficial wounds.

He was also obviously dehydrated. Aragorn doubted any villagers had bothered providing their prisoner with food or water for fear of being turned into rabbits. Aragorn's jaw clenched as he thought of the injustices brought upon his dearest friend because of nothing more than revolting enmity for elves that turned normal farmers to blind aggressors. Sensing the change in his friend Legolas looked at Estel with concern. Aragron hefted a smile back onto his face.

"At any rate let's get you out of this dismal place and get you some proper care." Aragorn said. He slipped an arm under Legolas's right arm and held his slim waist supportively. Legolas scowled.

"I can walk perfectly well on my own you know." He said. Aragorn rolled his eyes but a genuine smile pulled at his lips. The stubbornness radiating from his proud friend was just as comforting as it was exasperating.

"Yes I am sure you can, and I am also equally sure you would trip and fall on your face. Or perhaps you are actually _trying_ to further injure that very broken arm of yours." Legolas glared at his friend who did not relinquish his grip on the elf's waist.

"Fine. But just know I can walk back to Minas Tirith right now if I so wished." Aragorn ignored this absurd statement and helped Legolas maneuver out of the cell and to the jail doors. The guard's eyes widened when he saw his king walk out with the convict shuffling right alongside him like they were comrades in arms.

"I will be taking him somewhere where he can rest and receive proper medical care for his injuries." It was an absolute statement, as unmovable as the Misty Mountains.

"But sir I…"

"I will vouch for this elf and as soon as his wounds are seen to I will come back in person to sort this out. Do you not trust the word of your king?" He asked. The guard shook his head with enough vigor that Aragorn was surprised it didn't fall off.

"Of course not your Highness." He bowed opening the door for Aragorn as he flipped his ranger's hood on once more and walked swiftly to the nearest inn while avoiding running into any townsfolk. The Inn Aragorn had chosen turned out to be an excellent strategic location. It was run down and shabby with a sign reading 'The Singing Pea Inn' that was barely hanging on by one hook.

The Inn was shabby enough that there were no other customers other than the disguised king. The man quickly paid for a night's accommodations and snuck Legolas upstairs to their room. He helped the elf lay down on the lumpy straw bed while he extracted his healer's pouch from the leather belt around his waist.

Legolas groaned as he settled his abused body onto the bed closing his eyes as he allowed his muscles to relax. Aragorn had quickly begun boiling water and adding various herbs to his concoction while spreading a green salve onto the multitude of cuts on the prince's body. Legolas let the cooling touch of the salve wash away the sting of the wounds as Estel wound white linen bandages around the slender body.

"Don't get too comfortable mellon-nin. I have to set that arm and as its been sitting in that broken state for two days now it will not be pleasant." Legolas's face scrunched up in displeasure.

"I know. Just get it over with." He said with gritted teeth. Aragorn nodded.

"Drink this first it will numb the pain a little and help fight infection." Legolas examined the proffered liquid suspiciously.

"It won't put me to sleep right." He asked. Aragorn had to resist sighing.

"No it will not you stubborn Eldar. Now drink it less I shove it down your throat." Legolas swallowed the brew in one gulp. The only trace of the potion being the grimace of disgust on the patient's face.

"Why must everything you healers make have to taste so foul?" He asked.

"Perhaps because we are discouraging patients from charging recklessly into harm's way." Aragorn replied mildly as he shifted his position so he was sitting next to his friend's left side with access to the broken arm.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black isn't it?" Aragorn gave a noncommittal hum as his answer focusing instead on ghosting his fingers over the damaged arm to feel the break. Legolas bit down hard on his tongue when Aragorn brushed the site of the break.

"Brace yourself." He warned positioning his hands correctly. Legolas clenched his teeth tightly in preparation but still could not hold back the scream that broke through his lips when a horrible crunch signaled the realigning of bone. He sat up as he curled in on himself resisting the urge to clutch the injured arm to his chest. Aragorn rubbed soothing circles on his friends back as the elf panted trying to steady his breaths.

"I still hate setting a break every time." Legolas said weakly.

"I don't enjoy it much myself, so let's do both of ourselves a favor and try to avoid them as much as possible from now on." Aragorn responded with a small smile.

After a few minutes Legolas relaxed back onto his back his breaths slow and even once more. The king finished bracing the arm and bandaging it to hang from a sling around the elf's neck. Aragorn settled himself onto a wooden three-legged stool leaning his elbow on the wobbly desk provided in the room. "If you feel up to it I am very curious as to how you ended up in this debacle." Legolas opened one blue eye.

"It's all the pig's fault." He said bitterly. Aragorn couldn't help himself as his eyebrows tried to escape his face.

Legolas explained all that had transpired since he left the safety of Minas Tirith. Towards the end Aragorn was struggling to hold back laughter.

"Stop laughing. It's not funny." Legolas said although a grin was already spreading across his own face.

"You…You were actually arrested for…for stealing a pig!" The king choked out between breaths of laughter. "That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard. Even with all the nonsense about elves being able to turn men into cats with a single glance." Legolas raised an eyebrow at this new bit of information on elven sorcery.

"If that were true you would be a cat ten times over by now."

"I don't' suppose you bothered telling the men here that you're the Elven Prince of Eryn Lasgalen and could buy this entire town if you wished never mind a single pig." Aragorn asked wiping the remnants of tears from his face.

"No. I did not." Legolas said seriously. "That is not the point Estel. I don't want to escape this because I'm royalty or because the King of Gondor is my friend." Aragorn sobered looking at the elf who had propped himself back up on the bed's headboard to look his friend in the eye.

"But you are and I am." Legolas leveled a soft glare.

"You know what I mean Estel."

"But there is nothing to get out of here. You've done nothing wrong. These are my people. Their ill-conceived notions have resulted in this. In a way it is my responsibility, not yours, to fix this." The king's voice had gone from cheerful to acrimonious.

"Then help me Aragorn. I want to show them, I want to show them that there is nothing to fear from elves. We are more alike than we are different. I will not force them, it is pointless, but I will do things their way and convince them that I am innocent and that they are wrong in their beliefs." The blue eyes, ageless and pure were adamant. It struck Aragorn again, as it had many times in his life with the elves, how despite living for millennia many elves still displayed endearing naivetés.

"You can't honestly let this go to a trial. You know it will not be fair." Aragorn implored.

"I know any trial they hold will be farce, nothing more than formality to justify them sentencing me however they please."

"Then you know I cannot let this continue any further. You have suffered enough because of this idiocrasy. It ends here." Aragorn's own determination had steeled his voice.

"No." Legolas said firmly.

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried in exasperation.

"If you release me here based on my or your titles it will resolves nothing. The next elf or perhaps even dwarf that has the misfortune to pass through here will face the same persecution. You're right mellon-nin, this fear, this hate, it needs to end here." Seeing the absolute sincerity and conviction in those eyes Aragorn closed his eyes in denial.

"What am I to do with you. Not only to you find trouble wherever you go you always manage to convince me to dive down the rabbit hole with you." A wide grin spread across the elf's handsome features.

"You'll help me then?"

"Yes I'll help with madness, though Valar knows why." He confirmed. Part of Aragorn was afraid. Afraid that the friend he held dearest to him would be harmed even further. Yet the gnawing dread, and perhaps even a little shame, that had been burning his insides ever since Legolas left also solidified his determination. Legolas was right, something needed to be done. Things could not stand as they were, they needed to change. He didn't know if they would succeed but at least they would try. No matter what the conclusion was Aragorn knew one thing. He was not going to let these people hurt his brother any more than they already had.

"Do you have a plan?" He asked the blond resting on the bed.

"I do indeed have a plan. But I'll need your help as it is inconvenient for a suspected criminal to be walking around town." Aragorn nodded.

"Let's get started then."

Night had descended by the time Aragorn returned with both the sheriff Runen and the guard Melbryn. While the sheriff had been absolutely non plussed at finding his charge missing from his cell he had also not dared to argue with the King of Gondor.

"By my orders you are not to reveal my presence here to anyone else in this town." Aragorn said firmly standing outside the door of the room he had gotten at the Singing Pea. Is that understood?" King Elessar locked his stormy eyes on both Runen and Melbryn's ensuring they both understood and obeyed his order. "The prisoner is also to be allowed to stay here under my watch. You have my guarantee that he will not try to escape." He could see a muscle tick in Runen's face as he clenched his jaw in resentment but nodded stiffly none the less. "Lastly the elf wishes to speak to you before his trial tomorrow." Aragorn said opening the door and waving a hand towards the prince.

"What is the meaning of this?" Runen demanded upon seeing Legolas sitting serenely on the Inn bed holding his seething gaze evenly. He spoke in an even firm voice that rang clear as bells through the small dusty room.

"I demand trial by combat."

* * *

 **Rita Orca - That you so much for your kind words, it really makes my day to see you enjoyed my story. The villagers definitely haven't dealt with the infamous Aragorn/Legolas duo before and I'm sure our favorite ranger will sort this mess out ;) Thanks for the review.**

 **Violet - Thanks for taking the time to review, and yes I think it would have been fun to play off Aragorn's anonymity. I've seen some amazing fics of disguised Aragorn having some fun and surprising people. I hope the story isn't too predictable for your liking and you can continue enjoy it. Thanks for catching my mistake and the review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to everyone who has Favorited, followed, and especially reviewed :) The next chapter might take a little bit longer cause I'll be out state for a week but rest assured I'll do my best to get the next chapter posted as soon as I can.**

The night was one blanketed in heavy layers of gray-black clouds. The crescent moon's light could only peak out occasionally between the smothering presence of the obscuring wisps casting shifting silver light on the small human settlement. It was under the cover of this sky that two cloaked figures met underneath an ancient swaying oak.

"I told you it was a hare-brained idea in the first place Lastor." One hissed at his companion, larger and broader in stature.

"How's I ta know the huntin' party would run inta one of em elves while w're lookin for me 'stolen' pigs?" Lastor growled back sourly at the man by his side. "Plus, it don matter now anyways. You say the creature wan'sa trial by combat?" He gave a rough bark of laughter. 'It'll never win, broken arm en all." A shift of the smaller man's cloak revealed he was now glaring openly at Lastor.

"This has gotten out of hand." He seethed in a voice just barely above a whisper despite the fact that the two men were thoroughly alone except for the towering tree. "I promised I'd help you sell your pigs and write them off as stolen for compensation from the Capitol, but I never would have helped if I had known it would turn into this Mordor of a mess."

"It ain't outta hand. I beat em tomorrow, ya declare em guilty and he's locked away for the rest'ta his unnatural life." Lastor said simply not bothering to modulate his voice at all. A stray falling branch clobbered the side of the man's shoulder. He cursed violently staring at the ancient tree with contempt. "As soon as I deal with tha elf remind me to chop down this blasted tree!"

"You've never seen elves fight before have you?" Runen asked shifting his body to survey for possible eavesdroppers. "I was in Minas Tirith after the war Lastor, when the Fair folk still roamed the stone halls. I saw them spar with the soldiers and even hurt they are formidable." The farmer gave a snort of disbelief earning him another withering look. "One in particular, a dark haired elf clad in gray, he was covered in bandages and still managed to disarm three fine Gondorian men." Runen could tell he caught his accomplice's attention at that retelling.

"Ya say'in I'll lose?" He asked, accusation in his voice.

"I'm saying you are being far too careless!" The lawmen's voice was no longer lowered. If people find out what we've done I'll be ruined. With the ki…" He trailed off letting the syllables trail into the still air. Lastor raised an eyebrow at the silence.

"Don'tcha worry Runen. I've got wha'cha might call insurance. Know a lad down at the pharmacy who owes me a favor." The moon chose to shine his face down upon the two at that moment and Runen felt a shiver run down his spine at the grin that was plastered on Lastor's face. "Suffice to say, the elf won't be a problem anymore." With that declaration the farmer drew up his cloak and marched into the shadows of town. After a moment's hesitation Runen followed. The night was silent once more except for the moaning creak of the mighty oak as it bent its trunk in sorrow.

Word had somehow spread much further than Lastor would have liked of the duel to take place at high noon between the imprisoned elf and his accuser. He would have preferred it to be a quiet affair. A simple and swift resolution to his recent garnered troubles. The farmer looked uneasily at the sheriff whose brown eyes were surveying the gathered crowd with apparent disinterest but Lastor could see tension in the normally relaxed gaze. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second and he nodded at his accomplice, Runen held his eyes for a moment longer before moving onto the next person. The burly man fingered the short sword he brought with him cautiously. A delicate of poison, deadly if touched, coated the razor edges. A failsafe in case the match got out of hand.

Lastor had never been in many altercations in his life. When he did find himself needing to put someone in their place he had always relied on his superior size and strength from raising swine his whole life.

A murmur spread through the crowd. Those opposite the accuser automatically parted ways to allow the slim figure to walk forward. The elf, as tall and proud as the night he was found on the hill, gazed dispassionately at the gathered spectators letting the blue chips rest on the man directly across from him. It was incredible how much self assurance the elf could show when his left arm was braced by a makeshift sling and his forehead invisible under thick coils of linen.

Lastor stepped forward feigning confidence in his step to boost his rattled moral. He drew his sword from its place at his side holding it gingerly before him.

"Let us begin."

Runen watched, carefully maintaining his neutral composure but inside he was nearing panic. He kept trying to reassure himself that the arrival of the king and trial by combat had no bearing on his original plans. Lastor promised with audacity that he could beat the elf and Runen was counting on that promise with blind faith. The king couldn't, or wouldn't, interfere with a justly carried out verdict in his own kingdom. After all, it was his responsibility to be the epitome of law and order.

Yet, despite being sure in his knowledge the lawman could not suppress the unease that rose in his chest as the elf strode up, his bearing regal and smooth despite the sling supporting his left arm and various visible bandages on his arm and face. King Elessar had promised there was no trickery in the elf's demand. He would not flee or use 'black magic' to contrivance an escape. So far the King's word had proven true.

The two opponent's stood to face each other. One's posture tense the other relaxed but attentive. Lastor spared on last glace at Runen before drawing his short sword and straightening his stance. The crowd moved back a few paced to create a nearly perfect circle closed by the modest podium from where Runen would oversee the match.

"Let us begin." The man growled at his infuriatingly lax opponent. The elf tilted his head and to everyone's confusion turned to face Runen ignoring his accuser altogether.

"I believe it is the right of those accused, who choose a trial by combat, to also be allowed to elect a champion for their representation." He spoke, silky voice carrying over the still clearing. Runen stared at the creature uncomprehendingly for a moment before recovering swiftly.

"While that is within your rights I do not believe there is any present who would be willing to represent your kind." The man was proud that his voice resounded with authority and with just enough spite at the end of his sentence to make the elf's request seem like an asinine comment. To his vexation the elf's only response was to give a small smile.

"I'm afraid I must disagree my good lawman, for I have already found a capable and willing candidate who wishes to prove my innocence today." Runen blinked.

"Really?" He asked, injecting as much cynicism into that one word as he could muster.

"Yes." The being replied turning back to the crowd as a hooded figure slid forward maneuvering easily through the throng of gatherers. The elf turned and rested a hand on the man's shoulder whispering something undetectable. The man gave a nod, patting the elf's shoulder in reassurance.

As the figure moved to take the place the elf had been standing just seconds before he flourished his cloak to reveal an elegant long-sword by his side. A stone dropped into Runen's stomach as his palms began to perspire profusely. This wasn't possible. Why would anyone… no it couldn't be. He tried to convince himself even as a weathered hand reached up. The fabric fell away to show a handsome face with eyes as grey as the clouded sky.

"I shall represent the accused, Legolas, in this duel to clear his good name." Announced the clear, stately voice of their King.

Cries of disbelief and recognition rippled through the townsfolk. Many fingers were pointed, confused whispers exchanged, and children raised above their parent's heads to catch a glimpse of their monarch. Lastor stared ahead in complete and utter astonishment. He tore his eyes away from the Gondorian King and fixed an outraged look on Runen. His accomplice has said nothing of this!

The dismayed look on the man's face however showed Lastor that he had been just as blindsided by the recent development as the farmer was. It was unthinkable.

It was not unheard of for people to die in a trial by combat. After all the confrontation did not end until one party yielded, and there were criminals who'd rather face the icy grips of death than justice.

Lastor could not even begin to imagine why the king would be present in such as remote town in his kingdom. More importantly, he could not fathom why the man would risk his life for something that wasn't even human. It didn't make sense. None of this made sense.

"Why'd ya risk yer life for a worthless one, yer Majesty?" He asked as the King drew his famous Flame of the West and began a steady circle around his adversary.

"Because he is my friend." Was the simple reply.

"It's no one's friend. No one can claim'a goblin like im a friend. They don disserve our trust, yer being tricked." He snarled back forgetting to watch his tone in his anger and fear.

"That is where you are wrong." Without warning the man struck. Lastor barely had time to bring up his own weapon in defense. The king was strong and by no means small but Lastor had always been an unusually large human, even when he was a child. He managed to clumsily deflect the overhead blow and scramble to the side as a follow-up strike nearly sliced his left forearm.

The cacophony of clanging metal filled the air. The summer heat beating down only exacerbated the tension in the town. The man could feel warm trickles of liquid sliding down his face and back as the warmth, fear, and physical exertion stressed his body. The world tunneled away until all that Lastor could see were the two gleaming streams of steel splitting the vibrating air.

An irrational frenzy took Lastor. He tried to go on the offensive. If he could just tire the king, perhaps unnerve the man by showing he was serious about the match the man would realize what a futile effort it was and abandon the match. His strokes were crude but forceful. Elessar's own blocks were measured and skillful, using no more than the necessary energy to deflect the manic blows. A thrust from the king forced the larger man to take a couple hasty steps back driving him to the edge of their duel circle.

His senses sharpened from threat, Lastor could feel the breath of the crowd and the acrid scent of sweat and dust. The greys and browns of his neighbors' clothes blended into a hazy background but a vibrant splash of green against the monotony of muted colors caught his attention. The elf stood, right arm cradling his injured lightly, eyes riveted on the king approaching his position with his sword held lightly at his side.

With a bellow of rage Lastor threw himself, not at Elessar, but at the sources of his woes. The elf began all this and Lastor would finish it.

The stark blue eyes turned to him too late. The poisoned blade was already descending down upon the golden crested head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for everyone's patience as I wrap up this little tale. I had a less time to edit this chapter since I wanted to get it posted asap so, as always, apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors I missed. I hope you have enjoyed this story, I'd love to know if you lied it or if there are areas I may improve as I'm always trying to improve and please. :)**

The King's Anduril rose to meet Lastor's own blade and guided it smoothly past its intended target by a millimeter. The farmer could see every movement of the glinting steel with frightening clarity. The blade was deflected at the height of its arc and brought down so close to Elessar's own head that a few strands of ebony hair spiraled down to accompany the barbarous weapon. Lastor's breath hitched, his hand spasmed, the leather hilt of his sword slipped through his rough fingers burying itself in the dusty dirt at his king's feet. Fear washed everything from the man's brain as he stumbled back away from both the elf whom he had just tried to murder, and his opponent who looked on with eyes made of flint.

He had almost murder the High King of Gondor. What would have happened to him? Imprisoned for life, no that would be far too lenient for the person who killed the hero of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. More likely for him to be exiled beyond the hospital borders of the peaceful races to face the evil lurking in the abandoned north. Or even worse…his blood chilled and his heart raced even faster that it was already pounding. Executed. He would be executed in front of the outraged masses never to see his farm or family ever again.

Lastor vaguely registered his knees thudding lightly against the earth as he stared fixated at the hands trembling uncontrollably before him that suddenly seemed foreign. Words were being spoken around him but it was meaningless dissonance. All he knew, all that mattered, was that his life had almost been over and it was for what? Some pigs? The life of an elf? Yes…he forced his head up to look at the creature who had stepped into the dueling circle.

He wasn't even looking at the man who had almost taken his immortal life. He was hovering over the king speaking rapidly though the words could not reach Lastor through the roaring of his own blood in his ears. Elessar waved off his companion's concern going so far as to obligingly spin once to show he was truly unharmed.

"Why?" He barely recognized his own voice, distorted as it was by adrenaline and fear pumping through his veins. The pair turned to faced him. One set of eyes questioning and the other irritated.

"Why?" He questioned again, this time the word was stronger and steadier. The ring of people quieted watching the exchange with such riveted attention it was almost comical. Though the farmer couldn't really blame his neighbors, the most exciting thing that had ever happened in their village was when the nobleman's daughter had eloped with the local barmen. To his surprise the king did not look angry, instead a small smile was lifting the edge of his lips.

"Because he is my friend." He answered glancing at the elf standing at his shoulder. "And I know he would do the same for me."

Lastor had to resist the insane urge to laugh. He wasn't even sure why. Perhaps his nerves had finally frayed and he was going the same way as loony Bill across the hill but looking at the duo before him he could almost believe it. There was no King and commoner, nor elf and man. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, at such ease that one would think their natural state was with each other at their side.

The two beings couldn't be more different, one with dark hair and grey eyes with ranger garb, the other fair haired and blue eyed dressed in fine elven silks. Yet those difference seem to melt away as Lastor looked on. He finally gave in and gave a short bark of laughter before hanging his head in resignation. Perhaps he really was going mad.

"I yield." I said loud enough for all those gathered to hear him. "I yield ta ya and drop ma charges against ye elf." Behind him Runen was so stunned by the sudden turn of events it took him a few seconds to stutter out a response.

"Uhh, yes. The plaintiff Lastor has yielded this match to the accused's champion, King Elessar. The elf is declared not guilty and is free to go." He announced. Murmurs rose, but they were not angry but rather curios and tinged with a bit of excitement. Lastor remained on his knees staring at the yellow dust between his knees trying to regain his erratic breath. Behind him he could hear his accomplice walk up beside him. He hadn't heard the retreating steps of his opponent so he assumed the king and elf still remained.

"Lawman, Runen your name was, correct?" A deep voice broke the settled silence.

"At your service your Majesty." The addressed replied with a bow darting his eyes to Lastor who had yet to make a move to stand.

"If I launched my own investigation into the alleged thefts of Mr. Lastor's pigs would I find his claims to be credible?" He asked. Runen stiffened and his smile was so forced it looked like a light tap would shatter it.

"I assure you it would be your Highness." Why was Runen still trying Lastor wondered. The ploy was over, the king would never let him go unpunished for assaulting him and accusing the elf. Because, no matter how impossible it seemed to the farmer, there was no magic that could weave the illusion of such camaraderie. The two beings before him were most definitely the closest of friends.

"Why ya still even try'in?" He spat. "It's over." He raised his eyes to his judge and jury. "Why don we skip ova the useless questions en get on with it?" Aragorn raised his brow and glanced at his companion.

"And what precisely would we be 'getting on with' Mr. Lastor?" He asked in an infuriatingly clam voice.

"Lock me up, thow me outta me own village. Ya gon punish me fer accus'in tha elf ain't ya?"

"It would not be my place to deal out punishment against you for it was not I who has been so wronged. The only one who may judge you is the one who you yourself tried to destroy." Any hope of leniency fled as Lastor shifted his gaze from the cold grey to the brilliant blue. He would have to live out the rest of his life as a toad avoiding being trampled by his own swine. Runen opened his mouth to protest but shut it almost instantly realizing the futility of arguing against his own liege.

"What say you?" The king asked looking at the fair creature beside him who gazed down with an unreadable expression. Lastor searched desperately for a sign of his fate in those depthless eyes.

"Let him go free for I do not hold him responsible for the charges brought against me." Lastor could not comprehend the crystal clear words sung into air. His mouth actually dropped open as his brain tried to form words. How could the elf not blame him? It was a trick he was sure of it. But what was the point of the deceit? Seeing the look of absolute bafflement on the man's face the elf elaborated, now speaking to the entire crowd present.

"Old lore and prejudice have been bred into the hearts of men here. I admit it has been partially my own race's fault." At this the king tried to protest but the elf cut him off. "It is true we have grown withdrawn and disconnected from our fellow children of Eru but the absence of knowledge should not be any reason for there to be animosity between our peoples. This entire situation has been the result of fear, of hate, and of a lack of courage to begin understanding new things and leave behind the old."

The elf swept his gaze across the circle of humans meeting each pair of eyes unflinchingly. "My people want nothing but peace with the people of Gondor and if you are willing to listen we are willing to answer." He turned back to Lastor finishing his statement directly addressing him. "My business with you is done and you are forgiven." The immortal stepped forward.

A slender hand was proffered. Aragorn shifted ready to intercede should Lastor try anything. The kneeling man stared at the hand for a moment before making a decision. He reached out and took the hand to pull himself up. He gave a stiff nod to the elf whose smile was brilliant. Runen gave one last rigid bow before retreating with Lastor away from the perfect circle to join their fellow townsfolk.

Legolas turned back towards Aragorn smiling like an idiot. He could see exasperated fondness the in the man's eyes. The king of Men stepped forward placed his hand on the elf's good shoulder letting their foreheads touch for a brief moment before raising his fingers to his lips and giving a loud whistle. The shrill sound was answered by a distant whinny and the crowd parted as two magnificent stallions trotted up to greet their masters.

"Hannon le Arod. It seems you heeded my request with the greatest of speed." The wood-elf praised as his steed buried his soft nose in Legolas's chest. His eyes immediately snapped to Aragorn who had been surreptitiously inching towards him.

"I can mount just fine by myself Estel." He said preemptively. The man quickly changed direction and mounted his own horse instead.

"Would never dream of insinuating otherwise mellon-nin." The prince gave a very unelf-like snort. Muttering quietly about mother hens and overbearing healers he managed to mount with minimal jostling to his broken arm.

"I'm ready to head home, you?" The former ranger asked.

"Not that I would ever call the dusty pile of stone 'home' but I do believe returning would be desirable." Aragorn gave a small laugh spurring Roheryn into a slow trot. Arod followed and the pair made their merry way out of the village that had caused them so much grief.

Runen walked up to join the broad figure already standing at the base of the ancient oak. Lastor stood his brown eyes locked on the two retreating figures riding further and further away.

"Well that turned out to be a right mess." He said casually coming to a standstill beside the shorter man. Lastor only grunted in response. Runen watched his companion for a moment trying to decipher the thoughts raging inside that thick head. Finally he asked the question that had been burning in his mind since the two foreigners had rode out of town.

"Why did you take his hand? Why did he spare you?" Lastor didn't respond of a long while and Runen thought perhaps he never would. But after a long moment the gruff man simply said.

"Jus maybe they en't _all_ tha bad." The lawman blinked but didn't respond. Watching the green dot on his white steed Runen realized they never did learn the elf's name. They both waited until the two silhouettes on the planes became dots then vanished behind a knoll altogether before turning away. Before the two men could leave the grove two large branches crashed down from above the canopy catching both of them on the head and leaving two very large bumps and colorful expletives tainting the air.

* * *

"I believe it would be to both our benefit if the fair Lady Arwen is not regaled with the entirety of this tale." Legolas said casually watching the rippling grass dance beneath the horses' hooves.

"I do believe you are correct. It shall save us both a public dressing down in front of my staff. Though in this case most her ire will most likely be directed towards you my unfortunate friend." Aragorn agreed giving the elf a sideways grin.

"I still maintain this was not my fault." Legolas insisted with all the haughtiness he could muster.

"You know you are far too caring and forgiving." The prince grinned.

"Sometimes it takes a gesture of faith and goodwill from one side before any progress can be made."

"Does that sign of faith and good will have to include a broken arm, bruised ribs, and multiple lacerations?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Preferably not, Elbereth knows we manage to get enough of those, good will or not." He joked and the man couldn't help but smile as he recalled their many misadventures that had his foster father moaning and complaining in the hall of fire for weeks. "But if that's what it takes Estel I don't regret it." He added sobering.

"I know Legolas, but I wish it wasn't so." He said sincerely eyeing his friend's bound left arm.

"What are you going to do with the lawman? Runen." He asked. Aragorn shrugged. He knew just as well as Legolas that the man was lying through his teeth about the whole affair. His only redeeming quality was that he had respected his King enough to follow his decrees. "I shall send a replacement to the town soon. We have no proof of what he may or may not have done but I think we can safely say his days of power of over."

"Shame." Legolas said. The king's head snapped towards his friend.

"You don't wish to see that man punished?" He asked incredulously.

"You misunderstand me mellon-nin. I simply think it is a shame I did not simply turn the lot of them into ravens and have them deliver messages for my father." Aragorn chuckled. He had long gotten use to the Eldar's tendency to swing from serious to jovial in the blink of an eye.

"True, or perhaps cats to catch the palace mice."

"We could always use some more thrushes to keep the snails at bay in the gardens." The duo rode towards the white gates of Minas Tirith with nothing but laughter and creative uses of humans turned animals rising into the crystal skies.

The End


End file.
